A tapestry made with various acrylic yarns, scraps of clothing, an elastic waistband, a bra strap, a tag from an old shirt, shoelaces, an onion bag, a found photograph, tinsel, ribbon, beads, and buttons,  59in. x 14in. x.5in. (2026)

"The Sun Shines Over Our Fear So It Can Be Witnessed" is a tapestry that wrestles with the feeling of being on display. In a typical viewer and viewed relationship the viewer has the power as they subjugate the viewed with their gaze, turning the viewed into an object for the viewers consumption. Through the use of eye imagery this weaving gazes back at the viewer as they look at it, challenging that power dynamic, and creating a moment of mutual acknowledgement between two beings. However, this act is not an easy one and this tapestry, this creature, is scared, which can be seen in its chattering teeth. The tapestry itself is made up partially of my old clothes, and thus serves as a proxy for my own body, holding the weight of being on display so that I do not have to. Trans women in America are largely treated as a spectacle, and thus are under the constant scrutiny of other people's gazes. "The Sun Shines Over Our Fear So It Can Be Witnessed" is a manifestation of the paranoia that comes along with that constant scrutiny, challenging the viewer to question why they are looking at it.

A tapestry made with various acrylic yarns, found cotton rope, scraps of my old shirts and socks, tinsel, elastic from an old bra, collected buttons and charms, and a found photograph of a child, 62in. x 20in. x .5in. (2025)

"Between The Serpents And Up The Stairs" was a journey of weaving in which I stopped and started multiple times. This weaving traveled with me between three apartments as I moved once out of the apartment I had lived in for five years, and then again, suddenly, after a bus crashed into the building that I was living in. Because of all of the time that I spent with it, this weaving became extremely intertwined with my life and my body and serves as documentation of my life as I worked on it. The title invokes a journey, a theme which is aided by the nature of weaving being a sequential process in which you move up the composition, each piece of weft building on the last. The serpents that the title speaks of  block the path as the viewers eye moves up the piece. The viewer must then decide how they will proceed. Will they meet their gaze, or will they skip over them in attempt to avoid an uncomfortable moment with a strange creature. The viewer then encounters a picture of a child climbing a set of stairs that has been woven into the tapestry. This child, who I do not know and have no connection to, is a manifestation of the disconnection I feel with my childhood as a trans woman. This child also serves as foreshadowing of what lies ahead, as beyond this grim reminder of a childhood lost there are two consecutive sets of stairs depicted from two points of view. As a person views this piece and reads this description, they become much more intimately aware of me and my existence. And it is in this moment that I am most vulnerable, and it is in this moment that I ask them how they feel now that I am the subject of their gaze.

A display case/wine rack with drawers made of  salvaged elm and poplar, reclaimed red and white oak, scraps of sapele and cherry, reclaimed fir from my childhood home, and reclaimed hemlock mushroom board, finished with Polywhey. Hardware fabricated from brass tube and sheet 45in. x 34in. x 20in. (2025)

“Shy and Drooling” is a combination of a display case, cabinet, and bottle rack. It is a piece that both draws attention to itself, but at the same time does not know what to do with that attention once it has it, its front legs turned in showing how timid it really is. This piece, in a similar vein to my other work, examines the underlying power dynamics that dictate how a viewer interacts with objects, paralleling how people interact with each other, and questioning what it means to look at something and what it means to be looked at. 

"These Organisms Have Been Conquered" is a dining set consisting of four chairs, a table, and a bench, each of which have been carved into biomorphic forms. This carving is meant to create a feeling that the viewer/user is interacting with a living thing, complicating the relationship between viewer and viewed. When looking at/using this dining set the viewer/user becomes acutely aware of the power imbalance between them and the creatures they are sitting on and eating off of. This power imbalance between viewer and viewed parallels the ways in which people view and interact with othered people and their bodies as they go about their lives.

Coffee table made with reclaimed hemlock and white oak and scraps of walnut, poplar, maple, ash, cherry, and ebony, finished with linseed oil, 18.5in. x 57.5in. x 19.5in. (2023)

"Remnants of Impalement" is a table made with the intent of showing the aftermath of a traumatic event rather than the event itself. Suspended in the center of the table top there is a piece of walnut with a jagged hole in the center of it. This hole holds the implication of violence, and begs the question, "what happened to the table?"  The table, much like our human bodies, shows it's history with violence in it's physical form. It's scars are put on display.

A tapestry made with various acrylic yarns, scraps of my clothes, my torn up bed sheets, ribbon, my old belt, collected buttons, shoe laces, my grandmothers old towels, an action figure I found on the ground, and my broken roller-skate hardware, 36in. x 16in. x .5in. (2022)

"Target Practice" is a piece in which I grapple with my own relationship to masculinity.

(2020) This zine was made during quarantine at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. At the time I had moved back home to live with my family, and it was during this time that I really began to question the power dynamics at play in viewer and viewed relationships. I sought to create this zine in order to put my feelings about the way we look at people and the way we are looked at into words (and pictures). The drawings in this zine were all done with the trackpad on my laptop, and were quick gestures of the various feelings I associate with being looked at and looking at others. The experience of reading this zine is meant to be an uncomfortable one, as it is accusatory and questioning of the reader/viewer's motives.

A Painting made with acrylic paint, latex house paint, tempra paint, oil sticks, oil pastels, crayon, and china markers on stripped scrap fabric 98in. x 58in. (2020)

"Venus and Mars" is my reimagining of the Botticelli painting of the same name. Venus, the god of love, in my painting takes on a commanding and wrathful air that starkly contrasts Bottecelli's reclining figure. Seen staring directly at the viewer while simultaniously ripping the head off of Mars, the god of war, Venus, in my reimagining, rejects the docile feminity that is often assigned to her. Through this violent act, and her unwaving gaze, Venus views the viewer and asks, "who is next?"

Painting made with acrylic paint, tempra paint, latex house paint, oil pastels, crayon, china marker, and oil sticks on sewn together scrap fabric, 12ft. x 17ft. (2019)

“Night Walk” depicts the exhilarating yet paranoid terror that coincides with a tranquility that I feel during a walk late at night. The scale of this piece is meant to encompass the viewer and transport them into my head as I make my way around the streets. As cars zoom by, their headlights, along with street lights, clash with my astigmatism creating the dancing lights that are depicted in the painting. Everything is alive as I venture further away from and then back to my home.